


A psychic connection

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [38]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Telepathy, supernatural powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 11:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: An inventive attempt at the art of seduction by supernatural being Molly Hooper.





	A psychic connection

_Gosh, he looks yummy today._

Sherlock’s jaw clenches. He keeps his eyes on the microscope. 

_He’s wearing my shirt._  

Her shirt? Why is it her shirt? It’s his. It’s a man’s shirt. How did she get the idea that-

_The purple shirt of sex._

Oh.

_He knows exactly that I love him in that._

No, he doesn’t!

_Git!_

Sherlock presses his lips together and adjusts the lenses.

_Boy, I wish he would use those musician hands on me instead of that blasted microscope._

He can’t help the tingling sensation in his hands. Quickly he commands himself to keep calm.

_My breasts would fit perfectly in his hands._

Yes. Yes, they would. Jesus.

_Would he massage them gently? Or squeeze them? Would he rub my nipples or would he twist them hard until I gasp?_

Lord, this woman. This is just an experiment, he reminds himself, to discover the degree of his newly formed mental powers. Unfortunately, so far he’s only been able to hear her thoughts. That’s why he doesn’t leave, he tells himself. That’s why he  _endures_ Molly Hooper’s unprofessional thoughts.

_I bet these long fingers could easily reach my G-spot._

He squeezes his eyes shut as a hot shiver runs down his body. He forces them open again, not wanting to look like an idiot in front of naughty Dr. Hooper.

_Boy, what am I thinking!_

Finally, this woman remembers where she is!

_Sherlock surely has no clue where the G-spot is. Or what it is, for that matter._

Her inward giggle echoes through his head. He grinds his teeth. Of course he knows where the bloody G-spot is! He’s not an idiot! He probably knows more about her erogenous zones than she does! Well, not  _hers_. Of women in general. But basically, they are the same for most of them…Anyway, point is, yes, he knows where the bloody spot is!

_Boy, I really need to get laid. If I start fantasizinig about Sherlock getting me off I really have to be desperate._

Excuse him?! 

_Sherlock and sex is almost as absurd as Mycroft and sex._

Out of the corners of his eyes he can see her shudder.

_Such a waste, though. He’s so fucking beautiful. Damn it, If he wasn’t who he was, gosh, I’d crawl under the table and suck that cock right now, until he wouldn’t remember his own sodding name._

The jolt shooting through his body makes him flinch. Heat and blood gather in his lap while her mental pictures flood his mind. Curse this woman. 

_All he would know would be my name. He’d gasp it, scream it, whimper it. He would use it to beg me to continue, to never stop._

Jesus Christ! Molly Hooper and her filthy mind is causing an erection! He has to fight it. A good experiment to test his abilities, he tells himself as he feels his cock swell rapidly. Now he can try to block out her thoughts. It did work when she was inwardly singing during the autopsy yesterday.

_But I would. I would suck him to the edge over and over, until he cries and apologizes for every insult he’s ever thrown into my face. And then I’d order him onto his knees and make him eat me out, my hands buried in his hair, his tongue eagerly lapping at my pussy, groaning into my hot flesh-_

“GOD DAMN IT, MOLLY!”

Both of them flinch and Molly whirls around, her eyes wide.

“WHAT?!”

She looks genuinely confused, but Sherlock is too outraged to believe it. He jumps off his stool and grabs his suit jacket, tossing the blasted thing over in the process. 

“You are at work, woman! Get your filthy mind out of the gutter!” 

He has trouble to get into his jacket and groans in frustration. When he finally manages, he pulls the collar of his shirt out while he shouts at her.

“And so you know, I bloody know where the god damn G-spot is!”

With that he whirls around and hurries to the swing door, throwing it against the wall.

“And I wouldn’t beg! And I most certainly wouldn’t cry!!!”

Sherlock grabs his coat, tossing the rack over, as well, and storms out of the laboratory and out of the hospital, away from her, back to his fortress of solitude, all the while fighting down his throbbing erection and the mental images that are still swirling around in his head. 

~oOo~

While Sherlock is in agony, Molly couldn’t be happier. 

Way too easy, she thinks. 

In serene happiness she finishes her shift. She really should explain the nature of his mental powers to him, reveal that it is only due to her. Now that she has entered her maternal phase she has chosen him to father her child. 300 years she has waited for the perfect man, had suppressed her demonic being to a point of self-destruction. But when she met Sherlock Holmes, from the very first moment, she knew he is the one. Not a mere slave, no. She had enough of those. She wants a partner, an equal, and even though his body is human and fragile, his mind is almost as strong as hers. He has handled their mental connection very well so far and it will only increase in time. Their bond will be strong and eternal, Molly has no doubt. 

She loves him and he loves her. She has seen the truth when she has looked into his mind, saw the depth of his feeling for her in his dreams. 

And tonight, they will weave this bond in the most pleasurable way. 

Ah, it will be fun to indulge again. 

And yes, he will beg. And he will cry. 

Molly can’t wait.


End file.
